


Something More Alive Than Silence

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Foxtrot [9]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, The Dollhouse - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6228901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: any, any, something more alive than silence swallows conversation.  Major Lorne informs Foxtrot John Sheppard that Victor Anthony Ceccoli has been working on something in his spare time: an imprint chair. Set in SGA Season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something More Alive Than Silence

"Sir, there's something you need to see." Lorne's voice in the radio beside John's bed roused him out of a particularly disorienting dream belonging to either the blind pianist or the architect acting out his blindfold fetish. He scooped up the radio in the dark - blind pianist still lingering, then - and flipped it on.  
  
"Go for Sheppard."  
  
"Southwest pier, level thirty-seven."  
  
"Be right there." John was dressed and armed in ninety seconds. Three minutes later, he stepped out of the transporter at the named location. Lorne, fully dressed and looking disturbingly awake, was waiting for him.  
  
"More than one of the expedition's members has a side project," Lorne began.  
  
John waved a hand impatiently. "You paint, Kusanagi makes saké in a still, I get it."  
  
"Sergeant Anthony Ceccoli has been building something. The parts he was using were scrap, discarded, and Rodney seemed amused that he thought himself something of an engineer, so we let it go, but on patrol tonight, I discovered this." Lorne led John away from the transporter and down a hall, into a side room. He unlocked a door, and there it was.  
  
An imprint chair.  
  
Cobbled together from pieces of Ancient and Earth tech alike. There was a workbench and a toolbox where someone had been cobbling together what looked like a hair dryer. But on the workbench there were imprint wedges with blank labels.  
  
Zelenka and Rodney stood over the chair, Rodney with his datapad in hand, Zelenka with a screwdriver, both of them looking puzzled and frustrated.  
  
"As far as I can tell, it's some kind of medical device," Rodney said. "A scanner, maybe? Something neuro-based, I'm guessing, since it utilizes the imprint beam from the life-pods we found Thelan and Pheobus in."  
  
"I checked Sergeant Ceccoli's file," Zelenka added. "I have no idea how he was capable of making this."  
  
"Obviously he's not what he seems," Rodney said. "Ascended Ancient, maybe? Goa'uld under the radar? Ori? Something else?"  
  
Zelenka yanked a hand through his already messy hair. "If this is a useful medical device, he could have asked us, and we would have helped him –"  
  
John reached out and pressed a button in the chair. Blue light flared.  
  
Something more alive than silence swallowed the conversation. The curiosity, hopes, anger, and fears of a dozen other people boiled over, too much emotion in too small a space. John's heart roared in his ears, threatened to burst out of his chest.  
  
Lorne, Zelenka, and Rodney watched him warily. John had no idea what emotion or expression was showing on his face, because he was being flooded with hundreds of emotions at once, but the other three actually stepped away from him. None of them dared say a word.  
  
He reached up and tapped his radio. "Control, patch me through to all the on-duty security teams."  
  
Amelia said, "Yes, sir." There was a pause, and then she said, "You're patched."  
  
"Security, get me Sergeant Ceccoli."


End file.
